Crossroads
by Ivory Widow
Summary: The first thing he noticed upon wakening was the weight. A rather light weight really- but still too heavy to be the fine silk sheets he had dressed his bed with -drapped across his legs and his chest. The second thing the white haired man noticed was a faint tickling of gentle breath against his chest. Fem Spy!Red X Nigel
1. Chapter 1

_Warning: This is rated Mature for a reason. Things will not always be sunshine and daisies as Life is rarely that way. If you don't like don't read._ _With that said and fair warning given you may continue on._

* * *

The first thing he noticed upon wakening was the weight.

A rather light weight really- but still too heavy to be the fine silk sheets he had dressed his bed with -drapped across his legs and his chest.

The second thing the white haired man noticed was a faint tickling of gentle breath against his chest.

Slowly emerald eyes pried open only to quickly shut a moment later as the faint morning light that managed to escape through the curtains all but blinded him.

God his eyes... His head... It was too early for this.

Still the man was stubborn as emerald eyes slowed pried theirselves open once more and slowly darted downwards to the source of the weight.

Hair.

Short, messy blood red hair.

No way in the Seven Hells was it his.

Take a breath, more to clear his mind the anything, the british man fount himself assaulted by a rather stale sent of alcohol and sex.

Alcohol...

That right, he had gond to the tavern after another rough mission to drown away the guilt of what he had to do. A usual habbit he had picken up when said mission involved terminating the life of children.

Shaking his head the spy vanished the thought only to freeze as the movement stirred the other body.

For a breif moment he was certain the woman would wake, for without a doubt those where breast pressed tightly against his own chest, but his bed partner didn't. Instead the woman seemed to calm after a moment drifting back into her slumber.

Sighing softly, for the british spy allowed his eyes to take in what he could of his bed partner.

She wasn't the most beautiful person he had ever seen, most of her face was all but hidden behind rouge bangs on in his chest but she had somethings going for her.

Pale skin though most of it seemed to be covered in scars, teethmarks and bruises- no doubt he had something to do with the later. Despite his Gentleman like attitude even he had moments where he needed things rough.

The scars where likely from an abusive childhood though they sort of reminded him of a few of his own- still he highly doubted the woman had gotten them the same way he recieved his.

She was slender and the breast pressed to his chest where just the right size- in his own opinion- and completely natural if the lack of the usual faint scars by plastic sugery was anything to go by.

Her waist was all buy hidden by the sheets pulled around them but if his rather fuzzy memeory was telling the truth they where just perfect for his hands to grip. Her long legs where intwined with his own.

The hidden musclues he could feel just under her skin spoke of an athletic person- she likely spent a lot of time running.

All in all she was rather pretty just not a perfect ten. Likely someone he had picked up at the bar durring his drunken state...

 _Still, Who the Hell was she?_

Prying himself from the woman without waking her was a bit difficult but once he did so the spy couldn't help but sigh in releif as she all but snuggled into his spot.

Thank God for small Miracles.

For a moment there he had been certain she would have woken and no doubt the screaming would have started.

Screaming he really could do without right now.

Slowly emerlad eyes moved about the room, trying to locate his clothing. With luck he would be dressed and gone by time she woke only to freeze on a piling of clothing that was both fimilar but diffently not his.

A suit.

A well made chasemare suit rather neatly folded and sitting innocently on the bedside chair.

Usually this would't have drawn his attention- many a man and woman with money to spare brough chasemare suits, even dark red ones- if not for the fimilar cufflinks attached to the sleves.

They looked strangley enough like golden acrons with the initials RS engraved inside.

Of course it could have been his mind just playing tricks on him, or maybe even a trick of the light.

The spy tried to reason with himself as he crossed the room and picked up the jacket for a better look causing fabric to fall at his feet.

No...

Diffently a golden acron with RS inside. Still it didn't prove anything. Maybe this woman just had the same fashion sense.

Emerald eyes slowly moved down to the fabric at his feet.

A dark crimson button up shirt but there was soemthing else. Another peiece of fabirc poking out that was not within the color theme his bed partner seemed to prefer wearing.

A single strapless white cloth with hooks on the side.

No sleeves. It was rather small...

A binder.

Dropping the cloth emerarld eyes moved to the pants before a reflective glint of light drew his attention to the bedside dresser.

Sitting innocently yet mockingly on said stand was a few throwing knives, a dagger and...

Fuck...

Acorns.

Not just any acorns though, he knew those well. They held a sleeping gas inside.

Swiftly the spy spun on heel and made his way back to the bed.

This had to be a mistake but there was only one way to be sure.

Leaning over the sleeping woman the british man brushed the bangs from her face. There was scarring around one of her eyes but that wasn't what he was looking for.

Once durring one of his missions chasing his arch nenemiss he had allowed his anger to cloud him and in a violent fit had tried to slit the other's throat, if the scarring was there...

Licking his suddenly desert dry lips the spy's fingers moved down the pale face as they purposely searched for the one thing that shouldn't be there.

 _Please don't let it be there. For God's sake please don't be there._

But it was.

A thin smooth scar staright across the pale skin of her throat. Almost completely Hidden ever so slighly under bruises and teeth imprints.

Fuck.

Fuckity. Fuck. Fuck.

This wasn't possible.

But the evidence all pointed to one thing.

The woman sleeping soundly in his bed was none other then his arch nemesis, The Red Squiirel.

Fuck.

 ** _Red was a Woman?!_**


	2. Chapter 2

She had gone to the tavern for the sole puprose of getting drunk.

Despite what people would assume life as The Red Squirrel wasn't easy.

Being Enemy Number One, everyone wanted your head- from the young to the old- and the constant attempts where getting old. Then there was her job.

There where some days she seriously regretted working for WEAPON. Sure being a spy and second in command was fun and all but some missions she would rather do without.

Especially when you ended up killing your protégé because he had been too noble to listen. Too foolish to stay put and paid the price for it when captured.

Why Aleksei had run to her when he knew what she would have to do Red would never know.

One quick shot was all it took.

No suffering, no pain.

He had gone cold in her arms, bleeding out onto her favorite suit as she held him as close as possible. She supposed this was why The Count had warned her of getting attached to Protégés- few of them rarely lasted long in their line of work- but she hadn't listened.

It was days like this she hated her job.

So here she- surrounded by empty bottle of Vodka and Whiskey- was trying her damnest to get wasted and for once actually getting somewhere when _he_ had shown up.

Super Secret Agent Nigel.

Ha, if he was Super Secret what was she?

If asked how she would describe Agent Nigel it would be an obvious prat.

For years he had a thorn in her side- or rather his side as Nigel wasn't even aware she was a she.

The rouge had half a mind to leave then, to just slip into the shadows and out the door before he noticed her but why should she?

She was here first. He could go find another, decent tavern for all she cared.

So she had focused her attention back on the icy bottle at hand and tried her best to ignore the spy's appearance.

She wasn't quite sure what had happened after her... Well she couldn't even remember what bottle she had been on.

Everything was a bit of a rushed blur.

She could remember leaning against someone and stumbling down a street like a fool with that same person.

There had been a moment of pain and warmth but that was it.

So really Red wasn't very surprised to wake within a warm bed smelling of alcohol and sex in a room she didn't know.

It was a rather lovely room really.

The walls where a relaxing shade of turquoise blue-green reminding her a lot of water as the light that managed to bypass the curtains reflected at different angles. Instead of carpet the floor was dark seamless cherry wood. The bed was in the center of the room, silk emerald sheets and spacious pillows.

Well it wasn't the worse place she had woken up to.

Pushing the sheets away from her being, the rouge woman allowed herself to sit on the edge of the bed for a moment as she stretched her sore muscles and looked over the new marking tainting her body.

Judging from all the bruises and teeth imprints she had fount a fun one last night- what she was still mortal? She had her needs. - shame he had likely already left to escape whatever people did after drunken sex.

Oh well, she probably would have left herself had she been the first to wake.

Standing the young woman made her way towards the widow and used two fingers to push back the curtains just enough for her to see.

Huh, so she wasn't at a hotel.

A big yard and considering the forest just outside the property it was likely a good distance from civilization.

Private Property then.

Allowing the curtain to fall back into place, mix matched eyes- one molten golden and another blood red- moved around the room before landing on her clothes folding neatly on a bedside chair.

Small feet silently guided the rouge across the room as she gathered her belongings and headed for what she could tell was the Master Bathroom.

She needed a shower then she would leave.

* * *

Despite being Icy the water burned as it seemed into the fresh marks upon her skin as it washed away the sweat, dirt and grim from her previous nights actives.

Yet Red couldn't find it within herself to mind as it eased the her sore muscles and smoothed the pain.

Still the rouge haired woman knew as much as she wanted to she coudln't stay for long. There where other things she had to take care of so with a relucantacy a pale hand rose and turned the water off.

Stepping out of the shower the russian wrappped herself in a white towel as she searched through her clothes for the most important piece- the binder.

Being a woman in a Man's World wasn't easy- especially if one had fame and fortune to their name.

Take Widow for example. She inherited a Multi-Million dollar company and sudden every single man within distance wanted to marry her, not for herself but for her inheritance. Apparently it wasn't a woman's place to run a company let alone own one.

Sexist Bastards.

They got what they deserved though still Red didn't want to deal with it.

She had created a Multi-Billion dollar company and ran it despite her other jobs. Then there was her other titles- not including Enemy Number One.

Eyes narrowing the Russian woman shook her shirt as her searching hands failed to find the important fabric of cloth but nothing feel out.

Huffing in annoyance the rouge man her way back to the bedroom and began to search the floor for her binder yet three was nothing except a white cashmere suit jacket that must have gotten shoved under the bed sometime during the night.

Where the hell was it?

Damn it, if that guy took it as a souvenir she would wait for him to come home and kill him.

Scowling, Red could feel her eyes narrow as she brought the jacket closer to her face. There was something familiar about the scent on it.

Sweat.

Alcohol.

Taking a deep breath the Rouge forced herself to focus.

Petrichor.

Something sweet... Honeysuckles maybe?

Fertilizer.

Tea.

...

Nigel.

Fuck.

"I wasn't even gone ten minutes Red. You really must of missed me."

Mismatched eyes darted towards the main door and more importantly the man standing in the doorway.

Someone up there hated her.

* * *

 ** _WEAPON- World Espionage Agency Pardoned On Neutrality_**


	3. Chapter 3

A woman.

Red of all people was a woman.

Gods Above, someone had a sense of inory.

Don't get him wrong, Nigel Knew from first hand experince that woman where dangerous but Red?

A woman?

The same Red he had known since his was eight. The same Red who brought a different woamn to every funraiser he... err.. She attended.

The same russain he knew slept with a few of those woman.

If he was a computer he probally would have already been flashing signs reading "Error" or "Does Not Compute" by now but the proof was in his hands and in his bed...

And there was that issue.

Red, The Red Squirrel, Enemy Number One, His Arch Nemesis was in his bed- alone now in his room while he was pacing in his study trying to deny reality.

At least he.. She had been asleep when he left to sort out his rebellious mind but there was no telling how long that would last. How long until she would wake.

He needed to do something before she woke but handcuffing a naked woman to anything but his bed didn't seem appealing- usually he allowed them to cover theirselves up first but to do that he first had to wake the Russian.

Sighing softly the white haired man pocketed the binder he had taken in his rush to flee reality but now it was time to face reality. Who knew maybe Red had already pulled her disappearing act?

She was still there.

Nigel couldn't help stare at the scene he had walked into.

The younger was kneeling on the wooden floor by the bed, her face hidden within his missing jacket- _So that's where that had went_ \- with her eyes closed.

For a moment all the emerald eyed man just stared before finding his voice as the rouge pulled away from the jacket.

"I wasn't even gone ten minutes Red. You really must of missed me."

Mismatched eyes darted towards his with a hint of alarm and embarrassment causing the spy to relax slightly.

It was obvious she hadn't expected him to be here or she had expected him to leave immediately afterwards like he was so tempted to do.

Observing closely he could see the ways her fingers twitched within the fabric of his jacket, how her body- covered only by a towel he had left in the bathroom- moved ever so slightly so it was closer to the nightstand.

To her weapons.

Now there was the typical Red he knew and could deal with. Drawing his gun from its resting place the spy took his most patient and sincere tone.

"Don't. I'd rather not stain my floor with blood so early in the morning. "

For a moment he could tell she was debating her chance but not even Red was so foolish. All the rouge had upon her being the night before had been short distance weapons, she'd never reach him without being shot.

"Take a seat. We have much to discuss. "

* * *

She wasn't a fool.

If anything the years had taught Red when to fight her battles head on and when to patient. Right now was one of the later.

Carefully the rouge chose a chair in the corner of the room, ensuring the spy wouldn't be able to sneak behind her while allowing her full visual access of the room before her.

Nigel was just as Red remembered him- a prat but a rather handsome prat- through she would sooner cut off her own tongue then admit it to the elder. The spy had big enough ego as it was.

A six foot one, hundred and sixty pound gentleman- when he wanted to be.

Hair white as snow and eyes like emeralds. Muscular, a strong jaw, well fit, mannered and well educated.

Most likely would have considered him a good catch but Red still considered him an utter nimrod.

Despite what many would say, the spy wasn't perfect.

It was hard to anger him but once one did he had a temper worse then hers. He was violent when his temper got out of hand and had no problems with slitting ones throat in a fit of rage- a fact she had learned the hard way.

He had a foul mouth on him and wasn't above blackmail.

So pardon her if she wasn't willing to test wither he would actually shot her in the back or not. For now she would play nice but the moment he lowered his guard she would act accordingly.

* * *

Observing the rouge haired woman, the spy allowed himself to ponder his next move.

Red had chosen a strategic seating and was no doubt already plotting so getting too close wouldn't be wise.

Past dealing had long ago taught him caught didn't mean captured. The younger could turn the table rather quickly if given a chance so the emerald eyed man made himself comfortable on the edge of the bed.

Now that things where going his way though the emerald eyed man was uncertain on what to do.

He could demand answers but lets be realistic, Red would never answer.

He- She was too stubborn and would likely find a way to twist any question he asked in a gruesome way that would leave him feeling sick to his stomach without giving any answers.

Force would just be met with force and he couldn't just let her go.

What to do? What to do?

Well there was something he could do but he highly doubted a sober Red would appreciate being thrown back on his bed for another round of what his fogged up memories was telling him had been a very good night.

...

...

...

Alright first order of business, she had to get dressed. Wearing so little was too distracting- that towel looked as though it couldn't decided wither to stay on or go on vacation with the way it kept slipping ever so slightly- and maybe if she was dressed how he remembers his issues would go away.

Or at least go away enough so that he could just pretend this never happened.

* * *

She was aware of emerald eyes watching her as she dressed but find it within herself to care.

Modesty had never really been her best trait- especially when she didn't see a reason for it.

The rouge had a feeling the elder likely remembered more about the previous night then she did so she had little doubt he hadn't seen it all before.

Still it felt nice to be back in her own clothes- to stare in the mirror and see the man many assumed her to be. Smirking softly, the rouge ran her fingers through her hair acting as a brush as she straightened the mess it had become as much as she could.

Perfect.

There was the monster of a man the world knew and feared:

The Red Squirrel.

Now, how to get out of here?

A lone golden eye glanced around the bathroom, making sure not to seem too inserted in anything that could be of use.

* * *

Emerald eyes slowly cracked open as a hand moved towards his throbbing head only to pull back a moment later as a painful sting raced through his skull causing a hiss to escape his lips.

Blood. There was blood on his fingers. His blood.

No doubt the bastard had tried caving in his skull.

He supposed that was what he got for daring to turn his back on the rouge haired villain even if it had only been for the briefest of moments.

Speaking of which, Emerald eyes darted around the room only to find it empty, _where the hell was that bastard?_

Seeing as the room was empty and his gun and the Russian weapons where missing it was highly likely the younger had fled while he was unconscious.

Though it really wasn't all that surprising considering the fading light that made it through the curtains made it clear he had been out for a couple of hours- no doubt from the bastard's attempt to cave in his skull.

Just that Bastard wait until they crossed paths again.

Red would pay dearly for this and he'd take his sweet vengeance in the best way possible.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a while since she saw Agent Nigel.

A year, almost two, to be precise.

Two years since she had attempted to knock him out and almost caved his skull by putting too much force behind the blow. Luckily the Elder was durable or he might have been a vegatable by then.

Things probally would have been better for her if he was as not long after he had began to actively search for The Red Squirrel once more- no doubt wanting revenge-leaving it so the rouge had to constantly watch her every step.

Luckily fate had ben rather kind to her as of late- no doubt it would come back to bite her later- as she had yet to have a run in with the man obsessively following her every move- though she had a couple of close calls durring a few of her missions.

Still she knew it was only a matter of time.

Divine intervention or not- if there was such a thing- the two of them had been on a collision course since their youth and nothing would change that.

Nothing.

* * *

 _Blood._

 _Everywhere she looked. Staining the white sterile floor, the walls, her hands._

 _Her hands..._

 _All she could se was the crimson liquid without a sign of her pale ivory skin. Too much blood. Too much, it hurt even if it wasn't hers._

 _A voice._

 _Masculine but so similar to her own speaking softly, almost a whisper but she knows it the highest it can go as it owner chokes on his own blood._

 ** _'I don't want to die.'_**

 ** _'You won't. I promise.'_**

 _She was always a good liar._

 _Fire._

 _A raging inferno. It burned- obliterated- everything it touched, everyone._

 _She could feel the heat against her skin._

 _She needed to get out- to escape._ _There was nothing left for her here._

A golden eye shots open in the dark, hands tightly gripping the hotel bed sheets as their owner forces herself to clam down.

A dream.

She hated dreams like those.

Dreams that at times seemed more real than reality itself.

Sometimes she couldn't help but feel as though they weren't dreams at all but memories her subconscious mind had suppressed long ago.

Once she had questioned the Count about them but after that look he had given her the Russian fount she much appreciated the elder's advice on such matters.

 _Sometimes it was better not to know._

Still the rouge hated it when they woke her on nights like this as she knew she wouldn't be getting any more sleep that night.

Sighing softly the rouge haired forced her way to her feet.

She needed coffee.

* * *

Nice, hot black coffee.

Sighing softly, the Russian took a sip of her drink listening to the soft patter of the rain outside as it shattered upon rooftops around her.

A nice hot cup of coffee and the soft sound of the rainfall was as good of a way to start the day as any.

All she needed now was some good company but of course Fate- having done enough good deeds for one lifetime- decided to revert back to being a complete bitch as the worse company Red could possible ask for just happened to walk into the room.

God, she was going to need more coffee- and maybe some alcohol- if they expected her to deal with Agent Nigel this early in the morning.

* * *

He needed tea.

Hot tea, maybe with some cinnamon.

Luckily there was a new tea/coffee shop that recently opened near the hotel he was currently staying in.

It was only a matter of a short filled most with silence except for the soft patter of rain against his umbrella but Nigel didn't mind. He had always enjoyed the sound of rainfall as it shattered against the ground.

The shop was mostly empty when he arrived- except for a few early birds and what he could tell was the owner behind the cashier.

The manager was a pretty woman, the spy would give her that.

Brown hair so dark it was almost red and bright hazel eyes. She had a sort of bubbly personality to her but a slight seriousness at times. She was something well built and well stocked but the elder fount himself avoiding her advances.

He had the feeling she was looking for a fun time but at the same time wasn't quite certain what she actually. Instead she was letting hormones talk for her, a bad choice of a woman to take to bed as they usually ended up crying the whole next morning or wanted more than one was willing to offer.

All he needed at that moment was a one night stand not a enteral commitment thank you very much.

Maybe another day.

Paying the woman, the British man allowed his gaze to sweep over the area for a perfect spot.

Windows spots where instantly ruled out as he was certain the glass wasn't bulletproof and heaven only knew when your enemies would send a sniper after you. So he needed a place a bit deeper inside.

Walking a bit further in, Emerald eyes moved around the darker side of the café stopping a table all but hidden within a barely lightened corner. The table itself was nothing special but its occupants.

 _Fount you Bastard._

* * *

The younger was too easy to rile up at times.

Emerald eyes sparkled in amusement as their owner observed the Russian across from him. He was certain by the grip on her coffee mug that if they had been anywhere else but here she would have already attacked him. Hell she still might if that gleam in her lone golden eye was anything to go by.

Good.

He was just looking for a reason to start a fight with that bastard after what had happened the last time they crossed paths.

Just a few more subtle pushes and he was likely to have all the reason he could ever hope for.

* * *

She knew what the British man was trying to do- to proper to start his own fights it would seem- and was all too happy to comply.

She needed something to vent her frustrations out on and if he was offering- even if he wasn't- she'd gladly skin him alive.

There was no hesitation as she lunged across the table, glass shattering to the floor.

* * *

He could feel the raindrops as they connected to his skin and trailed down his face, almost blurring his visoin as they slipped down his lashes.

He could feel the cool breeze as it sent a chill down his spine through his soaked trademark suit.

He could feel the bruises forming onto his skin but most importantly he could feel that knife just missing him as he was forced to jump backwards to get out of the way.

And more importantly away from his quarry.

It was but another part of heir dance as he once more closed in, his own knife's blade glistening in the early morning sun.

He'd confess he proablly didn't look his best but then again never did Red.

Soaked to the bone and eye full of the thrill that came with their usual fights as they slowly circled one another. Neither willing to back down or show the slightest signs of relenting.

To relent was to surrender, something neither of them would ever allow.

Especially not to the other.

* * *

Each step, each attempt of the knife was well calculated and pre-thought.

Left. Right. Feint. Jump back.

There was no room for mistakes.

One false move would have her throat slit or cripple her movements if the other was feeling generous but it was also the same vice versa. They both knew that.

A soft tsk left her as her knife managed to slice the fabric of his suit instead of skin like she had planned forcing her to go on the defense of risk letting him inside her guard.

They both knew neither of them had much time, already she could hear the sirens wailing in the distance.

They needed to finish this now or flee and put the battle on hold. The elder would likely do neither, he always did prefer drawing their fights out but Red wasn't Nigel.

She had no such sediments.

Instead of sidestepping the next blow, the Russian ducked under before allowing her foot to lash out taking a slight satisfaction of from the pain grunt the spy gave as it connected to his ribs knocking his back, causing his feet to sleep in a puddle of rainwater which in turn caused him to trip.

A part of her whimpered that she should kill him then and just be done with the annoyance but she brushed it off with ease, choosing instead to turn of heel and race down the darkened allies.

Maybe next time.

* * *

"Blah Blah... Street fight... Yada Yada...better than...blah blah... Expected better..."

Was that spot always there?

A golden eye narrowed thoughtfully at the rather dark copper scented stain on the tile floor.

Hhmm. She didn't recall it being there the last time she got called in for one of Monie's rants.

Must of been another assassination attempt while she was out. Probably the janitor- he had seemed a little too interested in the complex's layout and as the door was still standing it had to be someone with a key.

Great the paperwork for that mess was probably sitting on her desk just awaiting for her.

Joy.

Maybe she could run for it? Even Agent Nigel's company seemed more appealing then a never ending stack of paperwork she was certain breed on her desk.

 _ **"Are you listening to me?!"**_

The annoyed voice caused the rouge's lone eye to drift back to The Weapon Commander. Monie should probably get something for her blood pressure as Red highly doubted anyone should be that shade of lobster red.

"Nyet, Not really. "

The rouge answered calmly though there was a hint of annoyance in her smooth accented voice.

Purple really wasn't Monie's color. It clashed horrible with her bloodshot- though usually a bright greenish blue eyes.

Maybe she call Francis? Mad Dolphin- MI6 seemed to have a bad habit of labeling them after animals- or not He was the best Doctor the rouge knew. Something Monie obviously needed.

 _ **"Get me Victor in here now!"**_

An alarmed golden eye focused back on Monie in time to see the dark haired woman slamming her desk phone back down into it's receiver with a satisfied smirk

Oh shit, suddenly paperwork didn't seem so bad.

 _The old man would not be pleased._


	5. Chapter 5

Victor von Sova, better known to the world as The Count, Former Enemy Number One; was not pleased.

The source of the elder man's displeasurement was once again none other then this twenty-two year old protege - who was looking more like a child again with the way she was sulking across the table. Honestly, if he told Red once, he's told her a thousand times:

 _If you're going to ignore someone don't admit it._

But did she listen?

Nyet.

She was too much of a Hellfire to just bow down and obey without some sort of resistance. It reminded the older man of the rouge's mother and himself. Now that had been a woman if Victor had ever saw one. It was a shame she had chosen to disappear with his unbron children and that damnable spy who all but led her to an early grave.

He was getting distracted again, wasn't he?

Right. Punishing his Portege for getting caught and then head back home to his rather Remarkerable Lover. Now how to go about it?

* * *

 _She's not prefect, even in his drunken haze he could see that._

 _Too many scars both on the insdie and out but he doesn't care._ _Scars could be healed, they just took time. She was young so she would grow like she had grown into the woman pinned beneath him._

 _Who wanted perfection anyway?_

 _Those mixmatched eyes stare up at him, for once lacking the hatred or anger he was used to seeing, instead there was a slight confusion. Most likely too drunk to even remeber why she was there._

 _He has to confess he finds he look rather compealing._

 _She doens't look like the monster whom he had dedicated his life to stopping. She looks more like a young woman, a bit lost but otherwise perfectly normal. Perfectly in his control._

 _Control..._

 _That wasn't usually a word that would even cross his mind when it came to The Red Squirrel._

 _It was rather appealing really._

 _To finally have control over the uncontrolable._

 _She doesn't like it gentle, he learns that quick enough._

 _Fine by him._

 _He wasn't feeling very gentle himself right then and there._

* * *

 _Though he won't admit it aloud Nigel finds he enjoys the concept of rough sex- the control he held as he vented all his frustrations and anger into the pounding the younger through his bed._

 _He enjoys the way her body moves and the noises that manage to slip through bruised lips. Espically when she's all but screaming his name in a mixture of pain and pleasure._

 _Its addictive he wants to - no needs to- hear more. She's his and his alone. His fogged mind lays his claim as his teeth sink into her skin._

 _He needed to leave his mark everywhere he could:_

 _Her arms, hands, thighs, ears, neck, shoulders, breasts, stomach, legs. Hell even her fingers._

 _Anywhere he can reach._

 _She's his and the whole world needs to know._

The emerald eyed man wakes covered in sweat with a white, milky stain upon the front of his boxer.

God Damn It!

She was haunting his dreams once more _._ No matter what the spy seemed to do, she was always there.

If Nigel was honest he wouldn't have minded, if only she had been there in more then just his dreams, but she's not. Instead the elder wakes alone in an empty bed with a mess to clean up and an issue the one responsible isn't around to help with.

He's not sure if that's a good thing or not but the emerald eyed man knows he grows wary of cold showers every morning.

Sighing softly, the white haired man forces his way to his feet.

It didn't matter Red wasn't here and what where the chances of her coming to Edinburgh anytime soon?

* * *

A small smirk crosses the rouge's face as she exits the airport, a suitcase clutched in hand. Its a beautiful place, snow and open land as far as the eye can see. In the distance the rouge could make out the outline of a small town.

Her destination, The town her target was cowering within.

She was almost here.

"Achoo!"

"Bless you Mr. Red and Welcome to Edinburgh."

"Thank you. Come along, Elizabeth. We don't have all day to dwindle. "

A small epp leaves the blonde hair girl next to the rouge. She's a rather shy one, A trainee and hopefully someone's future Protégé. Not the Russian's though, Elizabeth was her Father's idea of Punishment and subtle nudging into seeking a new Protégé of her own.

"C-coming M-Mr. R-Red!"

The golden eye Russian could hear the younger rushing after her but didn't bother slowly down as she continued walking through the ankle deep snow.

* * *

First kills where never easy but Father Above, Red doubted the young blonde would be capable of making a decent shoot at anything with all the shaking her body was doing as the younger attempted to reassemble the sniper's riffle.

"If this was a real mission you would have failed by now. You should be capable of reassembling that gun in five seconds or less yet you spent an hour just stumbling around like a fool attempting to figure out which pieces went where. If this was a real mission you would have been captured or if your lucky just outright killed. "

Thank God she decided to see what the other was capable of before hand.

"If this was a real mission and you had been captured, you would have been beaten, tortured, starved or even raped you for either information or their own twisted pleasures. Considering your looks it would probably be the later. You would be their own little fuck doll to pass around whenever they pleased. "

A lone golden eye all but bores into the younger as she shrinks into herself; tears welling in her rather pretty sky blue eyes. She knows her words are sharp and cruel but they're meant to cut. There was no room for err in their lives as it would only lead to Death or worse depending on who captured you. The Russian had bore witness to the aftermath of unfortunately Agents who drew the short straw and it was never pretty. Once she had been one of those aftermaths, _the Damn American._

Everything about this child, from her too innocent eyes to her slow timing all but screamed: _'Weak link here, please come screw and/or kill me but before that permit me to tell you every secret I know.'_

Harsh, truthful words in the beginning always helped down the road; but only if they listened. Judging by the quiet sobs and trembling of the younger's hands; Elizabeth was a good listener if nothing else...

* * *

To be honest, the Russian isn't very surprised when Elizabeth screws up the mission- though the other was physically an adult she had the heart of a child- considering their line of work, it was a Death Sentence from the start.

"I said shoot him."

Her voice is harsh and unforgiving as her eye pierces the younger woman.

She had warned the younger to stay within the confidings of their room when the rouge was not with her, had told her not to so much a look out the window if she wasn't there and what did she do?

The moment the rouge's back was turned, the other had rushed out the room and into a bar for a blasted party. And wouldn't you know it, the handsome- possible one night stand- would be one of those blasted Penguins.

"I'm giving you to the count of five to shoot him before I do it for you."

Elizabeth is frozen, wither from shock or horror the Russian doesn't know. Nor does she care to.

"I... He..."

"One."

"You can't. He didn't do anything!"

The fool of a woman brought a Penguin into their room, the room where The Red Squirrel was inside, How else did the other think this would end?

"Two."

"Please, he didn't... I can't."

 _ **Bam!**_

The body falls like a puppet without its strings.

"You're gun had tranquilizers within it," The rouge's voice has become ice as explains to the younger, " Had you shoot him like I told you to, he would have lived. "

A lone gold eye meets a frozen, teary blue.

"His Death is on Your Head. "

* * *

The Russian waits for the younger to shout her venomous words and flee from the room in tears before glancing down at the body with a sigh.

The venomous words are nothing new to her, she grown a thick layer of skin and her heart had been incased within ice since her twin was murdered. She doesn't care if another probie hates her, her job isn't to win friends after all.

Its why she didn't bother to tell the younger that her own gun had only held tranquilizers as well.


End file.
